Sunday Morning

It’s been a long week,  full of thoughts. As you can see, I’ve been caught up in that interesting maelstrom of politics.

Chris reminded me, since he’s such an old hand at paying attention to politics, that it’s only four years. And that as excited as everyone tends to get, not much changes. Checks and Balances, you know?

That’s true, generally.

I wanted to write a bit about my weird week. Monday I had my PMP test, and I passed it (YAY!). So I came home and went to bed early.

After I had fallen asleep, someone rang the doorbell. Dog was barking like mad,and I sleepily thought that Chris must have locked himself out somehow. I got up to answer it, but looked to see who it was. It wasn’t Chris. Had to grab my bathrobe and answer.

Big pasty white guy asked me if I “knew this man” and shoved a mug shot at me. I looked at the mug shot and looked at the guy. He was wearing some kind of police badge. I hadn’t seen mugshot man.

“Really? He’s your neighbor.”

No, I hadn’t seen him.

“He’s a child pedophile and we’re trying to get him off the street. Are you sure?”

many many things wrong with this statement. I looked at pasty man again. His badge said BAIL, not police. Trying to get someone off the streets is a job for the POLICE.

“It’s late.” I said.

“What time is it?” pasty said.

“ninethirty” Hey, I didn’t say that. THERE WAS ANOTHER GUY OUT OF SIGHT!

“oh, I’m sorry.” pasty said. and they left.

Now, I’m freaked out. I wish I hadn’t opened the door. I found chris and told him what heppened. He found the number for the police and I called them. They said they would send a car to see what was up.

Chris said I should have gotten him and not answered the door. I could see that now. We looked up megan’s law website and no such mugshot was listed in our city, so my first reaction–that they said guy was a pedophile just to get my sympathy and cooperation–was right. They were lying.

Took me a while to get back to sleep.

Tuesday, I had to get up way early, and drive to San diego for work. Super sleepy, but was booking along on the 5 in orange county when I ran over something. What was that? Barely had time to figure it out, when my tire blew out. Going 70 MPH on the 5. I had to stop, and persuade the other drivers to finally let me over to the shoulder. No collisions, and everyone is fine but the tire.

Staring at Disneyland exit, I call roadside assistance. In the end  they change the tire, I find a Sears to buy a new replacement tire and then go home. It took a long time to get the repair done.

SO! next day I accomplish the original San Diego visit, and all was well. Driving back on the 15, I am on a stretch of highway between two mountains and far from any exits. Motorcycle on my right pops a wheelie.

Well. Isnt’ he a daredevil. Shouldn’t be doing that on the highway. He speeds ahead of me, and then he starts driving with no hands. Yikes!

I lost trackof him for a second, but then I see him on my right. He’s moving around on his seat, and before I know it, he is


all this while traveling abou 75 miles an hour. In traffic.

This alarms me. I think he’s going to kill himself. He gets back down, and sits on his cycle the way he is supposed to again, but I’m looking for an exit. If this man wants to spread his body organs across the highway, I don’t want to be there to watch.

But there were no exits. I thought about Chris’s advice for avoiding crazy drivers. My inclination has always been to slow down and drive more carefully myself, but he says ‘get ahead of them. Damage happens behind them, not in front.’

I thought about speeding to get ahead of dangerman. But he was going pretty fast.

In the end, I slowed down and didn’t see him again. I did encounter a few more motorcyclists and gave them the evil eye til I figured out they weren’t dangerman.

Now, when thursday arrived, I was kinda worried about what would happen next. That was thursday, September 11th.

But nothing did happen. I sat at my desk and did very not dangerous things.

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